As I sit here with a glass of red wine, that I’m not drinking, just holding in my hand, I think about you. The biggest question that plagues my mind is, “Did we make it?”, “Did we reach our goals?”. Or did we fail like we have in the past?
Even more so than our success or failure, I want to know did we learn to love ourselves? When I started this journey, I came across a blog that said that I should document everything and visualize what I wanted to look like. I did more than that, remember? I did some magic with Photo Shop and within a half hour you were there. Smiling back at me with a smile that hid all of the pain and the hurt we’ve been through. I started to cry, I hope you remember that day. It was the day that I decided to change my life. To change every bad habit that I’d accumulated over the course of 28 years on this Earth.
But, I’m feeling a bit… tired? Yes, tired. It’s a tedious lifestyle when you think of it. Long gone are the days that a drive thru window expedited dinner plans but also expedited our obesity as well. Working 10-12 hour days, going to school, cooking, working out, being a friend, a daughter, a sister, an aunt… It’s all beginning to eat away at me. It’s weakening my resolve. I need to know did we make it? Do we love ourselves? Is this worth it?
Right now, I can’t say that I’ve learned to love myself…. yet… I’m getting there. It seems that the love I feel for myself has been directly proportioned to my weight loss and I see that as being a problem. Did we figure this one out? Not knowing is plaguing me. It’s eating me alive. I’m so fearful of making it so far and failing. We are at 40 pounds lost, the highest we ever made it before now was 50 pounds. So close to the best we’d ever done. What makes us different this time?
If only you could tell me what happens. If only I could have a sense of certainty. While I have your attention, I need you to remember a few things. If we did make it, never forget what it felt like to walk up the stairs and get winded; to not be able to fit in airplane chairs; to be looked at as if you’re subhuman because you’re obese; to cry at night after you ate 1200 calories in one setting; to feel uncomfortable in our own skin. Promise me that you’ll remember this, for it’s our only hope at maintaining our goal.
If we didn’t make it, it’s ok, and it’s never too late to start and try again. We’re determined if nothing else.
Finally, I apologize for letting us get this way. We endured much ridicule, pain, and tears solely because of our size. Had I learned sooner, maybe we could have avoided so much.
Please give me something to look forward to.